The Days

Sometimes, I'll take a moment and observe some situation or complete mess that I'm in the middle of and wonder how I would score it if my life were a movie (and I were actually talented in that area). Would I want a funny song to lighten the moment of four cups of flour being dumped on the floor? Or would I want a dramatic march that would really bring the flour pouring out of the measuring cup to life? Or would I want a deeply dark and disturbing piece... the lead-up to the subsequent horror scene when I discover that I'm now out of flour and I can't make my pizza dough!!! Ohhhh... the possibilities. So, now that I've shared that quirky tidbit, I'll just say that I like listening to music when I'm home. So I listen to lots and while it may be is cheesy, and John will give me hell for quoting lyrics (but we can't be original all the time, right?!), I realized the other day that 10,000 Maniacs (hmmm... strangely enough, a good name for myself some days) had it right:

These are the days

These are days you’ll remember

Never before and never since, I promise

Will the whole world be warm as this

And as you feel it,

You’ll know it’s true

That you are blessed and lucky

It’s true that you

Are touched by something

That will grow and bloom in you

That feeling of being blessed occurs watching siblings develop and deepen their relationship. While I made dinner tonight, I listened to the monkeys play together and laugh and cackle like old ladies. It was one of those magical moments when the world seemed totally right and things were ordered (half an hour later, when dinner turned out to be nasty, that feeling flew out the window). I try to leave the room quietly when they are being compadres so that my presence doesn't detract from their growing bond; I like to slip out and just be present to whatever nonsense they've got going. I also love finding them huddled together somewhere, thick as thieves -- like they don't even remember that they just needed milk or a shirt turned right side out or that they were arguing over the same darn book again -- and watching the perfectly synced blond heads rise as they discover that I've come into their space. Sometimes they want to share what they've been doing with me and sometimes they don't -- and that's fine. I don't want to be a necessary presence all the time. As they get older, their relationship gets more intuitive and better and better to watch and experience; the flip side, of course, is that they fight more intensely with Jack recently realizing that if he sits on her, she gets really mad. Lately, though, when they've been arguing and I've sent them back to come up with their own solution because I know just how good at solving problems you both are, I've even been rewarded with silence/giggling/harmony a few minutes later. I'm so not used to it that I usually have unthinkingly walked back in the room to mediate the dispute only to realize that there doesn't appear to be one anymore and who's the crazy lady now? We're not sunshine and rainbows all the time here (HAHAHAHA... that's a funny thought) but we have moments. And I live for the moments.

Morning read-a-thon

Some shenanigans in the pretender (the pretender is exactly what you see -- four interlocking panels. It's very cool and I have to give big kudos to my brother and his fam for making it for them. It goes from a house to a reading nook to a school bus and anything else a three year old can imagine faster than I can keep up).

No matter what, though, a little brother is never, not ever invited on camping trips with a big sister and her imaginary friends.

The preparation

The execution (I always bring my umbrella on my camping trips, don't you?)

The goodnights

Maybe his big gut scared all the ladies?

The clean-up. All within 20 minutes.